


What About Now

by JFACHardyzRKO



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sam's POV, Trauma, extremely mild (squint and you miss it) description of a panic attack, past noncon, sex repulsed!Sam, the aftermath of Sam's time in the Cage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 21:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7547836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JFACHardyzRKO/pseuds/JFACHardyzRKO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's headspace post-cage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What About Now

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from tbh but it's kinda sad and Sam is mentally hurt and just...why am I like this. Why can't I write happy things?
> 
> Seriously though, **READ THE TAGS**. This fic is potentially triggering so please look after yourselves and proceed with caution.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sometimes Sam feels…alone. Even in a room filled with people, it seems like he’s the only one around. When he’s with Dean and Benny, usually that feeling goes away. But sometimes…sometimes they do things that he _can’t_. And it makes him feel even worse. Because these are the people he can count on most in this world. The ones that he trusts with his life, the ones that he loves. And he _can’t_. Can’t give them what they want most. Because of the damn Cage.

The thing fills his dreams. Turns them into nightmares. Taunts him every time he closes his eyes. He’s tried meds, tried alcohol, tried pushing himself past his limits just to get it over with. But nothing worked.

So here he sits. In the Bunker’s library trying to translate one of the old Men of Letter’s resource books while Dean and Benny go off “for some fun” as Dean had said. They went into Dean’s old room, the one he used before they all started sharing a king sized bed in their room. Sam can tell by the way the door squeaks; no one ever got around to greasing the thing up. 

He appreciates that they do that; use a room that’s not _theirs_ collectively, when they wanna get off. Sam’s not sure who’s idea it was, Dean’s or Benny’s, but he’s eternally grateful. Found out the hard way that even the _smell_ of sex makes Sam nauseous. Makes him panic and feel like he’s drowning. 

It’s the memories. They all come flooding back anytime one of his senses is tripped by something sexual. He remembers the feel of Lucifer’s hands on him. The smell of too hot flesh as Lucifer claimed him, inside and out. The taste of blood as he bit through his tongue and cheeks, trying to keep from fighting it, “Just let it happen, Sam,” Lucifer had said. And Sam was powerless to argue. 

A few minutes pass before Sam starts to hear them, Dean and Benny apparently not taking things slow today. He can hear low rumbles of cursing, moans and heavy breathing filling the hall and tumbling into the library. They try to keep as quiet as possible, Sam knows that. He’s heard them when they’re not trying, knows that these hushed noises coming from that room are them being quiet for his sake. 

He appreciates it. He does. But even these noises are too much for him to bear so he pulls out his headphones and turns on his music, “Carry on Wayward Son” by Kansas flooding his senses and drowning out any unwanted sounds. Dean was right. Old, soft rock always did calm him down. 

He’d listened to the song on repeat three times over before he felt eyes on him and knew they were done. He turned off his music and pulled off his headphones, turning around to see worried expressions on both of their faces. 

“Sammy are you ok,” Dean asked first, always so concerned. Never wanting to hurt Sam in anyway. Even accidentally.

“Yeah, Dean. I’m good,” Sam replied casually. He _was_ good. The music calmed him easily enough, reminding him of better times and putting his racing mind at ease.

“We didn’t mean to- uh- we tried to be-”

“What Dean’s trying to say, sugar, is that we tried to be quiet. Didn’t mean to disturb you,” Benny says easily, walking by Dean to drop a quick kiss to Sam’s temple. 

“Yeah. That. Sorry, Sammy,” Dean stutters out. He walks over and runs his fingers through Sam’s hair in apology. Stopping then to give him a soft kiss on the lips before following Benny into the kitchen.

Sam smiles. He knows they do their best. Always making sure his comfort takes precedent, always ensuring that he’s ok. He knows that they’d do anything for him. They’d give anything to be able to take the pain away, the memories that haunt him and the restlessness. He knows that there isn’t anything they wouldn’t do to make sure he’s safe and loved and taken care of. And _that_ is why he doesn’t always feel alone with them. Because they may not be able to make him better, but they try their best every day and that’s all that Sam needs. People to hold him when the nightmare is too real. A big brother to shush him to sleep when Benny is gone and Sam feels vulnerable. A big brute of a man to make him breakfast in bed when the night never seemed like it would end. 

Things aren’t perfect for Sam, sometimes he feels like he’s the only person on Earth. But mostly, with Dean and Benny, he feels like the most important person on Earth. And that’s enough for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I told you. Poor Sammy. At least he has Dean and Benny to look after him and wrap him in hugs since we can't.
> 
> Constructive criticism is always welcome! I love improving my writing. 
> 
> Come stalk me on [tumblr](http://cultofwerewolves.tumblr.com/)


End file.
